Chapter 48

forty-eight

JACOB

An hour later, I didn’t know if I’d be able to stay at the concert for much longer. I could tolerate most of the noise, but as soon as the tempo of the music increased and the strobe lights shone across the audience, my brain went into overdrive. It didn’t matter what I told myself or how many relaxation techniques I tried—I couldn’t stop the panic tearing through my body.

My heart was pounding so much that I could feel my blood pumping through my veins.

It’ll be all right. It’s only music.

Sweat broke across my forehead. Balling my hands into fists, I tried to stop my body from shaking. But no matter what I did, I couldn’t even pretend to be enjoying myself.

Elijah leaned forward and frowned. He whispered something to Amy before leaving his seat.

I hoped he wasn’t going too far away. If what was happening to me got any worse, I’d need all the support I could get.

Within minutes, Pastor Adam was crouched in front of me. “Do you need to leave?”

“I can’t. I promised Andrew I’d stay.”

“He’ll understand.” Adam placed two fingers on my wrist. “Your heart’s beating too fast. Come with me.”

I winced when the band launched into the instrumental part of a song. The stage lighting became more intense, pulsing against the pitch-black sky.

Adam held my arm as he half-dragged me out of the concert. Hopefully, Andrew would realize why I’d disappeared. But at the moment, I was more worried about what I’d do if I didn’t get away.

By the time we reached the parking lot, my world was reduced to a pinprick of light, leaving me dizzy and disoriented. I stumbled, falling over my own feet like a drunken sailor.

A strong hand gripped my arm. “Hang on. We’re nearly at my truck.”

I didn’t care where we were going, as long as it was away from the noise.

“Did you bring any medication with you?”

I nodded and reached into my jacket pocket. Before I left home, I’d doubled the amount of emergency medication I carried. Coming here tonight was always going to be risky, but I thought I’d be okay. But I wasn’t, not by a long shot.

Adam’s arm dropped to my waist. Somehow, he managed to half-carry me across to the truck.

I collapsed onto the front seat. Dropping my head between my knees, I focused on breathing—on staying in the here and now and not in the middle of a hot Kabul summer.

Colorado was thousands of miles away from Afghanistan, but I could taste the grit of the sand, hear the high-pitched screams of women and children being torn to shreds by an avalanche of bullets.

Breathe. In. Out.

I closed my eyes.

Inhale.

Exhale.

“Here’s a bottle of water. How many tablets do you need?”

Thinking about an answer was like stepping through a thick, boggy minefield. “Two red. One purple.”

The click of the lid opening and closing was the only clue I had of what was happening.

“Take these. Remember the water.”

Short, sharp, and direct. That was the only way I would be able to get through the next few hours.

I swallowed the tablets, praying they’d kick in sooner than they normally did. “I’ll be all right in a few minutes.”

“That’s what everyone says. You’re coming back to my place.”

The shaking in my hands was getting worse. If I didn’t go with Adam, I’d end up in the fetal position in the back of the truck.

Adam leaned inside the cab, buckling my seat belt into place. “Don’t worry about Andrew. I’ll let him know you’re with me.”

All I could do was grunt. My head throbbed with a pain that was twice as bad as a migraine.

Without saying another word, Adam drove back to his house, hauled me out of the truck, and lowered me onto a bed.

With the curtains closed and a blanket thrown over my shaking body, I prepared for the worst.

And that’s exactly what I got.